


Punk Is Never Dead

by PaolaWarbler



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Punk!England, UKUS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:56:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1582445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaolaWarbler/pseuds/PaolaWarbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP. Punk Sex God!England UKUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punk Is Never Dead

America bounced on his toes as he and his group got closer to the front. His friends were raving about this amazing band that had just come from Britain. America didn’t care where they were from. All he cared about was good music. Of course, no one told him that they were a punk-rock band so he stood out from the piercings and dyed hair.  
“Hey, look at her cool hair!” Alfred tugged on Hana’s arm, pointing at a girl with bright pink hair.   
Hana smiled but said, “Yeah, Alfred. Now stop pointing. It’s rude.”  
America frowned. “Ugh. Now you sound like Arthur.” He said, showing his ID to the bouncer. America laughed. “Just imagine England being here.” The bouncer waved him and his friends in. America could barely see the stage with all the crazy hairdos and cigarette smoke. So he tugged his friends behind him and pushed his way through. There were a ton of people yelling at him and he was pretty sure he was hit by a beer bottle at once point but he still foraged forward.  
As he got to the front, the singer was finishing up the song. “All right, guys!” The man said with a thick Liverpool accent. “I’ll like for you to give a big fuck yeah to my man, the rebel, the man who fucks society on a daily basis, Arthur Kirkland!”  
The name was strangely familiar to America but he didn’t know why. He looked back up. “England?!” He gasped out.   
Hana turned to him, confused. “Um, yeah. These guys are from England.”  
America looked at her and laughed in his loud, annoying fashion. “Oh, yeah! Totally! Hah. Kinda forget sometimes.”  
Hana just smiled and turned back to the stage where England was actually playing a sick guitar solo. America looked at how different England was. He had on bulky black leather boots with skulls embedded in them and sinfully tight black jeans. How England got into them, America may never know. He had a black tank top one with a skull on it and was he wearing eyeliner? America couldn’t help but notice that his green eyes really popped. Also, it was hard to tell but it looked like he had pink highlights in his blonde hair. America gaped. England fell to his knees in front of the crowd and finished his solo. As he looked out at the cheering crowd, he spotted America. Instead of being embarrassed like America thought he’d be, he actually winked! America was amazed. How the fuck was this the same man who wore sweater vests and drank tea all the time? Unless this was like Invasion of the Body Snatchers, then there’s no way they’re getting him. Fuck that! But back to the maybe pod person England. He was now whispering something to the lead singer. Maybe he was the leader of the pod people and they were going to get America next!  
The guy grinned and walked back to the microphone. Oh fuck, here it comes, America thought. “So me mate wants to sing a song for a lucky someone out there tonight. Go get ‘im, Arthur!”  
Arthur swaggered up to the microphone and the band began behind him. _“So I long. I burn to touch him just the same. So we both can speak in tongues. Every single sense in me is heightened. There’s nothing left inside to rearrange. Like a slave to history and science, I long, I burn to touch you just the same...”_   
America was hypnotized by this new punk England. Just the way he sang and the way he was up there was…beautiful. Fuck, America could barely keep his eyes off him. England was so close to the microphone, he was almost kissing it. England was barely looking at him but America felt the song directed straight to him.  
 _“Until the universe is done and the course of time has run so we both can speak in tongues.”_ America felt something inside of himself just responding to England and the song. And he didn’t know what to do with it. Sure, he was attracted to England. He had a crush on him since WWI but he didn’t know if England wanted what he did. England had now opened his eyes and was looking straight at him.  
 _“You’re beautiful and so blasé. So please don’t let them have their way. Don’t fall back into the decay. There is no law we must obey. We can build a new tomorrow today.”_   
As England finished the song, America finally thought, fuck it, and he climbed onto the stage. Before anyone could react, he grabbed England and kissed him deeply. England wrapped his arms around his waist as America sunk his hands into England’s soft hair. Kissing England was electric for America. It was supposed to be wrong but fuck, it was hot. He felt just as the song said, “Every sense within me is heightened.”  
Someone in the crowd yelled, “Get off the stage, you fucking fags!”   
But before England could reply, the main singer said, “So you got a problem with fags? You can go fuck yourself! Or on a better idea, suck my dick. Learn what you’re missing!”  
The majority of the crowd cheered. America and England just smiled at each other. They walked off-stage but not before England flicked off the hater in the crowd. As he and America rushed out the back door of the club, England turned to America grinning.  
“Would you like to go to my hotel room?”   
America nodded. England smiled and grabbed his hand. “C’mon, it’s not that far from here.”  
America looked at England in that dimly lit alleyway and tugged him close. England smiled and pushed himself against America. Something glinted off England’s lip.  
“Dude, you have piercing!” America was astounded. England looked a bit put out that they weren’t making out but he nodded.   
“Yes, I had them done when I was younger. I sometimes put them back in for a night like this.”  
America now noticed the two snake-bites on each side of England’s bottom lip. America moaned. “Fuck, that’s hot.”  
England grinned. “Come on, love.” He patted America’s cheek but before he pulled away, America caught his hand.  
“You’re wearing black nail polish too!”  
England rolled his eyes, irritated. “Yes. I’m also wearing black eyeliner and my hair is pink. Any other observations, Sherlock?”  
America just smirked and slowly rutted his half-hard cock on England’s thigh. “It’s fucking hot.”  
England’s eyes popped open and he dragged down America’s head for a kiss that was too much tongue and teeth than lips. England pulled away suddenly and started walking.  
“If we don’t get to the hotel soon, I might be forced to fuck you right here.”  
America stood there, dazed for a moment before running after him. America and England kept pushing each other against walls to make-out that it was miracle they got to the hotel. But as soon as they stumbled into the lift, England pushed America against a wall and started kissing and nipping at his neck. “I’m going to fuck you so hard,” England said between kisses and nips. “You’ll limp for days.”  
Now, America would’ve protested and try to convince England he was topping but he couldn’t help but moan at the thought of England with his pink/blonde hair fucking into him, leaving marks with those piercings of his. England smirked and the lift opened its doors. They stumbled their way down the hallway and America returned the favor of marking England’s skin as he fumbled with the room card. But they made it in.  
America took off England’s shirt and kissed him. England’s hands scrabbled to take off the bomber jacket America wore. A trail of clothing led to the bed, where America and England were just down to their boxers. England pushed America down and straddled his legs. He kissed his way down America’s body and took off America’s pants, along with his own. As he slide his cock next to the American’s, he hissed in pleasure.  
“Fuck, England, where’s the lube?” America asked, head thrown back.  
“First drawer in the night stand.”  
America rummaged around until he found a bottle of lube and a condom. As England slicked up his fingers, America tore open the condom wrapper and rolled it onto England’s cock. England moaned at the feeling but America was soon the one moaning as England entered one finger in. England tried to be slow and careful but America was soon demanding more. England put in two and curled his fingers in. America’s back arched up off the bed in a perfect bow shape.  
“Fuck, England. Right there!”  
England smirked and began to ruthlessly massage that spot.  
“England, another finger, please!” America moaned.  
“Always so polite.” England said as he withdrew, earning a whine from the super power but then adding three.  
America squeezed the base of his cock, not wanting to come too soon. England scissored his fingers and thrust in hard.  
“Oh, please, England! I’m ready! I’m ready!”  
England grinned and pulled his fingers out. America whined, hating the empty feeling. But soon enough, England positioned himself near America’s entrance and sunk in slowly. America grabbed the Briton’s shoulders and took deep breaths. England bit his lip at the way America’s muscles fluttered to take him in.  
As soon as England was all the way in, he shuddered and waited for America to get used to the stretch. America rolled his hips experimentally and nodded. England pulled all the way out and slammed back in. America let out a long moan. England set a hard, fast pace using his strength. America actually slid up the bed with every thrust. It was perfect.  
America opened his eyes, unaware when he closed them and saw his fantasy come to life. England pounding into him, hairs all disarrayed and face pink from exertion. “England, kiss me.” America asked, softly. England captured his lips in a sweet kiss in juxtaposition to the rough pace. America let out a scream when England hit his prostate.  
“There! Right there, England! Oh my god!”  
England kept that angle and thrust even harder into America. America could only chant, “England, England, England,” at this time. All other words had flown out of his head. America started to feel the pleasure sparking in his veins, the knot in his stomach get tighter and tighter until he came hard. England came a few thrusts afterward, the two of them reveling in the sweet blankness. As they both came down to Earth, England slipped out of America. America winced at the sudden emptiness but England cleaned the both of them up with tissues.  
England gathered America in his arms and whispered, “Stay with me?”  
America turned and kissed him softly. “Of course.”  
They both fell asleep soon after in each other’s arms.  
FIN.


End file.
